


And Now We Only See Each Other At Weddings And Funerals

by Blacksaffron



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Blaise Zabini is a Good Friend, F/M, Luna Lovegood & Draco Malfoy Friendship, M/M, Pining, Romantic Comedy, Weddings
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-11-10
Updated: 2020-11-10
Packaged: 2021-03-08 18:21:20
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 5,587
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27491122
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Blacksaffron/pseuds/Blacksaffron
Summary: I’m unsure whether it’s a sign of watching too many romantic comedies from the 1990’s, or too much time reading HP fics, but I can’t stop from imagining how my favourites might fit into the plot of everything I see, lately.So here is a very fluffy, silly, smutty little Four Weddings - featuring a little HP cast of characters. I’m sure it’s been done many times before, but couldn’t resist.X
Relationships: Draco Malfoy/Harry Potter
Comments: 1
Kudos: 11





	1. The Wedding

**Chapter One**

_  
~*~*~_

_  
‘Mr and Mrs John Davis request the pleasure of your company at the Marriage of their daughter, Tracey Jane, to Mr Adrian Charles Pucey, At St Oswald’s Church, Otterburn, Northumberland and afterwards at The Otterburn Tower Hotel.’_

_‘Mr Draco A. Malfoy thanks Mr and Mrs John Davis for the kind invitation to the marriage of their daughter, Tracey, to Mr Adrian Charles Pucey at St Oswald’s Church, Otterburn, on Saturday 15th March at 1 o’clock and afterwards at the Otterburn Tower Hotel, and is delighted to accept.'_

‘We’ve missed the bloody Portkey, Lovegood, it was due to leave at, oh, fuck it...'

‘This is a bit of a pickle, isn't it?' Luna said, dreamily, smoothing the tulle skirt of her horrible dress. Weren't you meant to be there early, to make sure Adrian's prepared? It was awfully nice of him to ask you to be his best man, wasn't it, although it was rather short notice and I hadn't realised you two were so close...?'

‘We aren't, not really,' Draco muttered, fumbling with the buttons of the lurid fuscia waistcoat Tracey had delightedly insisted upon, as if the positively indecent dove-grey Muggle morning suit wasn't bad enough... _why_ she couldn't have allowed the groomsmen to wear a nicely-tailored, traditional set of silk dress-robes was beyond him.‘Pucey asked Montague, at first, but he had that nasty run in with the Aurors and Tracey put her foot down.’

'Ooh,' Luna interrupted, perking up a little. 'That grey really does bring out your eyes, Draco.'

Draco turned slightly in order to properly see his reflection in the antique mirror almost filling one wall of his bedroom, reluctantly admiring the cut of the jacket over his shoulders, the neat taper towards his waist. The shoes were rather nice, he supposed.Well, perhaps he could cope with Davis's ridiculous Muggle wedding traditions for one day.

‘Your bottom looks rather nice in those tight trousers, too, Draco, darling,' Luna said, haphazardly fixing a large artificial sunflower to the front of her dress. 'You know, people say there's a lot of sexual activity going on at weddings, perhaps _you'll_ get off with someone today, it's been rather a while, hasn't it?'

Draco scowled. 'Just because some of us are selective in our choice of partners... Fuck, Luna, come on, we'll have to Apparate.'

Draco managed to slow to a walk as they entered the church, raising a disdainful brow at Theo's snigger and Pansy's pointed glance at her watch. Blaise, grinning, stuck two thumbs up before smacking a kiss onto Luna's pale cheek as she sidled into the pew beside him, adjusting her sunflower.

How had that man _ever_ Sorted Slytherin.

'I was starting to get worried,' Pucey whispered out of the side of his mouth as Draco joined him at the front of the church. 'Cutting it a little fine, weren't you? What, did you forget the rings, or something?'

Rings? What in Merlin's name did he need _rings_ for?

Draco's stomach dropped unpleasantly as the heavy oak doors at the rear of the church opened and Tracey entered on the arm of her father, her dress almost as wide as the aisle. Pucey turned to beam sappily at his bride.

Oh, fuck.

~*~*~

‘It could have been worse,' Draco protested, as Blaise thumped a spluttering Goyle on the back, lifting the flute of champagne from his hand to take a healthy swig.  
  


Pansy snorted in a very unladylike fashion.'You were almost late and you had to Transfigure wedding rings out of Daphne's earrings, Draco! You're positively _useless_ without a horde of house - elves - or your mother - to look after you, you know, darling. Are you sure it isn’t time to move back to the Manor? You just aren’t used to fending for yourself.’

Draco scowled at her across the rim of his own glass. 'Davis is a half-blood Slytherin, I've no idea why she decided upon a Muggle wedding and I've never been to one before. Couldn't they have just had a perfectly nice, perfectly normal Bonding ceremony, like everybody else?’

Daphne frowned, blonde brows narrowing as she smoothed imaginary wrinkles from her pink bridesmaid’s dress. ‘Come on, Draco. You _know_ Tracey said she’d dreamed of her wedding since she was a little girl. This is how she always imagined it. Can’t you play along for one day? It’s the twenty-first century. We’re supposed to be _inclusive_. Isn’t that why you moved away from your parents in the first place?’

  
Theo topped up their glasses with a bottle of Moët he’d _Accio_ -ed from a waiter. ‘Besides, Draco, it’s not like we don’t all know _you’ve_ been picturing the day you finally get hitched since you were old enough to try on your mother’s dress robes. _I_ remember playing ‘Bonding Ceremonies’ in the rose garden at the Manor with you and Pans when we were younger and you always insisted on being the -‘

‘Never _mind_ ,' Blaise said, bracingly, neatly snatching Draco’s wand from his clenched fist before Theo could catch a hex to the face. ‘ _I_ think it’s romantic. Anyway, just your speech to get through now, Draco! Then we can all have some fun!' 

  
~*~*~

Speech, thankfully, over and watching Pucey swaying awkwardly on the dancefloor with his bride, Draco finally felt able to relax a little, emptying a bottle of mediocre Cabernet into his glass. Across the table, Greg had already stripped down to his white dress shirt, muscles bunching under the cotton as he lifted his pint of Guinness for a deep swig, a faint sheen of sweat above his heavy eyebrows from dancing. He was darting hopeful little glances at Millie, when he thought nobody was looking. She sat on Draco's other side, ignoring Greg in favour of her double gin and tonic. Blaise was dancing exuberantly with one of Tracey's aunts, while Theo chatted animatedly to a group of men at the bar.

'She looks like a giant white Puffskein in that dress, doesn't she? Tracey, I mean,' Pansy said, lounging in her chair beside him and placing a cigarette in her mouth. Draco's wand-tip barely weaved as he leant across to light it for her and she took a deep drag, turning her head to blow the smoke away from his face.

'Who's _that?_ ' she asked, drawing out the second word with interest, indicating the man standing beside Theo with her cigarette as she leant back in her chair to get a better look.

Draco tilted his head, finding that, for some reason, it was much easier to focus with one eye squeezed firmly shut.

'Bit of a dish,' Pansy whispered slyly into his ear.

Draco eyed the man's broad shoulders and trim waist, shown off in a well-cut jacket, the hem falling at a perfect length to draw the eye towards a temptingly rounded arse.

Draco was beginning to understand the appeal of Muggle wedding attire a little.

The dish threw his head back and laughed, his dark, tousled hair skimming the collar of his shirt, his nose straight, pronounced Adam's apple bobbing under olive-toned skin.

'If you bite that lip any harder, darling, you're going to break the skin,' Pansy said, amused. 'How long's it _been?'_

‘A while,' Luna said, airily, perched on the lap of a tall, broad redhead Draco vaguely recognised as one of Adrian's teammates, traces of her plum-coloured lipstick smudged at the corners of his mouth. 'I've not heard you bring anyone home since my birthday, and that was, oh...'

'While we're on that topic, _Luna_ ,' Draco hissed, ' _Why_ are you still _living in my house?'_

Luna smiled placidly. 'You know why, Draco. I like having a base when I'm back in this country and I don't like for you to be lonely now you’ve finally moved out of the Manor.'

Draco sniffed, haughtily. 'Well, if you ever actually slept at your _own_ house, Lovegood, you wouldn't have to worry about hearing anything, would you?'

‘Or, not hearing anything, from the sounds of it,' Pansy drawled. ‘Perhaps it’s time to just give up and get a few Kneazles, Draco.’

  
‘Just because I find casual encounters...'

'Draco's a serial monogamist,' Millie interrupted with a grin. 'Always has been, even at school, the only bloke he was obsessed with was...'

Draco narrowed his eyes at her dangerously and Millie sighed into her glass. 'Oh, don't be stroppy, Draco, it's unbecoming. Besides, it doesn't look like I'm getting any tonight, either. And I bought new lacy knickers and everything, after Daphne said it was practically _guaranteed_ I'd get a shag, if I was a bridesmaid. What a waste of Galleons.'

Draco shuddered a little at the thought of Millie in skimpy knickers, but Greg's blue eyes widened hopefully.

'I'll shag you, Millie,' he mumbled. 'If - if you want.'

Pansy glanced at Draco, lip twitching in amusement.

'Oh, I'm not _that_ desperate, Greg,' Millie snorted, draining the dregs of her drink. 'Come on, I'll still dance with you, though,' she said, hastily, when Greg's face fell. He perked up immediately as Millie hauled him up to his feet and dragged him towards the dancefloor.

‘Ten Galleons says Millie's fancy knickers will be on the floor of Goyle's hotel room floor by midnight,' Pansy smirked, searching fruitlessly for a full bottle of wine amongst the empties littering the table. She sighed. 'I feel like this evening calls for something stronger than wine, don't you, darling? Shall we get started on the Tequila?'

‘Mind if I join you?' the dish from the bar interrupted.

Oh, bloody _hell_...

‘Potter!' Pansy exclaimed, far, far too gleefully for a witch who’d once tried to sell the git out to fucking _Voldemort_.  
  


'Fancy seeing you here, I thought you lived abroad, now?'

'I'm only here for the week,' Potter said with an easy smile, 'Ade invited me to the wedding when I saw him at the World Cup and I managed to arrange some work around it.'

Pansy pushed herself up from her chair with barely a wobble on her too-high heels. 'Keep each other company while I go to the bar, can't you? Potter - Draco and I were about to make an attempt at self-Obliviation with a few rounds of shots, but it might be a bit much for you. What's that you're drinking? Butterbeer?'

Potter lifted his pint glass to his mouth and drained it, full lips pursed slightly around the rim, throat bobbing as he swallowed.  
  


‘Tequila sounds good,' he said, with a grin. His teeth were very white. 'I developed a bit of a taste for it in Mexico, last summer.'

Draco looked away, fixing a bored expression on his face and pushing a chair out from under the table with his foot, nonchalantly.

‘You might as well sit down, Potter, if you're joining us. I warn you, though, I'm not Levitating you out of here if you pass out at the table.'

Potter's green eyes gleamed competitively behind his glasses and he smirked at Draco. ‘Perhaps I'll be the one carrying you out, _Malfoy_ ,' he said, voice huskier than it had any right to be.

~*~*~

Something inexplicably odd was happening this evening, Draco thought, muzzily. Potter - _Harry_ \- was sitting with his friends, laughing with Theo and Blaise - he’d even danced with Pansy - and now Draco’s friends had left them alone on the table and - Potter’s gaze followed as Draco licked the remnants of salt from his lips - if he weren’t mistaken, Harry Potter was _flirting_ with him. Him. Draco Malfoy.

Oh, they’d made a valiant attempt at putting their childish feud behind themselves in their last year at school, after that whole messy business with the war, aided by the fact Draco had persuaded his father to testify to his mother’s cousin’s - Potter’s godfather’s - innocence in his posthumous trial, ensuring his name was included in the list of Order of Merlin (First Class) dedications beside that of their third-year Defence Against the Dark Arts Professor.

They’d still had a healthy rivalry, of course, before Potter had moved away almost ten years ago, not that Draco was keeping tabs or anything - but had kept it carefully to the Quidditch pitch.

Potter had won that one, the absolute _sod_ , scouted for the British League at nineteen and then the England squad at twenty, before signing with an American team in Salem, reappearing regularly in the Prophet every four years or so in the lead-up to the World Cup.   
  


The odd time they’d seen each other before Potter had moved away,, at Luna’s twenty-first birthday party, or that time at the Cup, they’d been friendly enough, but this flirtation, this was new.  
  
  


Typical fucking Potter, Draco thought, darkly. Disappears for ten years and comes back unreasonably fit and - Tosser.

Potter's cheeks hollowed as he sucked the juice enthusiastically from a slice of fresh lime, the sight making slightly uncomfortable things happen inside Draco's dove - grey trousers. 

Draco looked away, only to spot Greg snogging Millie enthusiastically up against a wall, one large hand braced beside her head, the other disappearing up the full skirts of her fuscia-pink bridesmaid's dress.

Potter followed the direction of Draco's gaze and sniggered. 'I hope you aren't supposed sharing a room with Goyle, tonight. Where are you staying, anyway?’ He gestured at the tray of empty shot glasses. 'I presume you aren't Apparating home?'

'I had reserved a suite at the wizarding hotel in town, but I've actually been invited back to Theo's manor with some friends, it's not that far from here.’

'Oh, that quaint little pub in the village?' Potter asked. 'That's where I'm staying. Shame you've made other plans, we could have gone back for a nightcap and - er - caught up - a little bit more privately.'

His teeth caught the corner of his lip as he eyed Draco, a faint flush forming on his cheekbones. Draco blinked. Was he pissed, or had Potter actually implied...

'Well,' Potter said, rising to his feet with a slight sway. 'I better try and find myself a taxi before they're all gone - the thought of a Portkey or Flooing after drinking -' he shuddered. 'I'm never making that mistake again.’

He held out his hand casually for Draco to shake, but instead of letting go afterwards, the two men simply stared at their joined hands for a moment, ivory skin against olive.

Potter ran his thumb ever so lightly across Draco's knuckles, so quickly he could have imagined it. 'It was good to see you, Malfoy,' he said, with a sheepish smile, running a hand through the back of his hair, making it even messier than before, before making his way across the dancefloor, pausing to kiss Tracey's flushed cheek and clap Adrian on the shoulder. He turned at the door to give Draco a little half - wave, and was gone.

Draco laid his head mournfully on his arms as Blaise threw himself into Potter's empty seat beside him, sweaty and flushed from dancing.

'That bad, eh?'

'Mrpf,' Draco said. 

'What happened? The two of you seemed to be getting on rather well, I had two Galleons on hexes being exchanged before the last dance, although Pansy thought...'

'I think I've just actually cock-blocked _myself_ , Blaise,' Draco mumbled into his folded arms.

'With _Potter?!'_ Blaise asked. 'Really?' Draco could actually hear the smirk in his voice. Dickhead.

'Well, it has been six months since I last had a shag.' Draco said, defensively. Nine.

Alright, _ten_. Merlin.

'It wasn't like there were many other options, Zabini.'

‘Not many options other than Famous Harry Potter, slayer of Dark Lords and international Quidditch star? Yes, I see you were really scraping the barrel there, Draco.’

‘Fuck off,’ Draco muttered. ‘Prick.’

'Ah, well,' Blaise rumbled, patting Draco's shoulder with a heavy hand. 'Happens to the best of us. Come on, Theo's carriage is here, you're coming back with us for some strip-Exploding Snap and Firewhisky, just like the old days. Have you see Mills? Or Greg?'

Draco perked up a little. ‘I think I saw them heading to the cloakroom. Why don’t you go and fetch them, Blaise, while I find Pans?’

~*~*~

Halfway to Nott Manor, while deciding Theo's carriage could do with a much better Extension Charm and trying to shift further away from the slick sounds coming from Millie and Greg in the back, Draco was hit by a moment of clarity.

Or sobriety.

Whatever.

'Stop the carriage,' he demanded, trying to shift Pansy from her perch on his lap. In the front, Theo and Blaise were singing some mournful Muggle song, Theo's falsetto and Blaise's deep baritone echoing across the grounds. Draco raised his voice.

'Stop the carriage!' He - well, he didn't _boom_ , exactly, he wasn't blessed with a voice as deep as Blaise's, but it absolutely was not a whine, no matter what Pansy might have said, afterwards. 

‘What's the matter?' Luna asked, face creasing in concern. 'Are you going to be sick? You know you should stick to wine, you've never been very good with spirits. Remember your twenty-fifth birthday? With the _Sambuca_?’

Pansy shuddered. 'I really liked that dress,' she whispered to herself, mournfully.  
  
  


'I'm not going to be _sick_ -'

'Theo!' Luna called. 'Can you stop for a minute? Draco needs to get out.'

'Bloody hell,' Theo replied, amiably. 'I knew he shouldn't have started drinking those shots. You and Potter, always has to descend into a competition, doesn't it?'

'I have changed my mind,' Draco said stiffly, clambering out of the carriage with as much dignity as he could muster. 'I'm going to stay at the hotel, instead. I've reserved a lovely, peaceful suite and it's suddenly appealing to me a lot more than a night with you degenerates.'

Blaise laughed and muttered something which caused Theo to emit a high-pitched squeal.

'Are you _sure_ , Draco?' Luna asked, peering out of the window as Draco straightened his clothes.

'I'm quite sure, thank you.'

'Be careful, darling,' Pansy called, as Theo motioned for the carriage to move on.

_'Greg!'_ Millie gasped.

'Have fu-un!' Theo sang.

'Use a protection Charm!' Blaise advised, as the carriage trundled away, the sounds of giggling echoing across the grounds.

_Right_ , Draco thought.

_Fuck._

It took him forty minutes to walk back to the village and another fifteen to find the little hotel so that by the time Draco pushed open the door he was fairly sober and shivering in his thin jacket despite the Warming Charms he'd applied. The hotel had more character than style, diamond-paned windows slightly misshapen but glowing with warm lamplight and chimneypots placed haphazardly around the sloping roof. The small reception and bar was warm with a cosy lounge area to the left and a fire flickering in the grate.

There was no sign of Potter.

Of course there wasn't.

And that was absolutely fine.

The witch behind the bar was ancient and wizened but polite as she checked Draco's reservation and handed him a key. As she explained where to find his room, a small door to her right opened and Potter himself emerged, lip quirking up into a smile.

'Mal - Draco?' Potter said, warmly. 'I thought you were staying with some friends?'

'There - ah - it turned out there weren't enough rooms, so someone had to -'

'Not enough rooms? In a manor?'

'Well, it's rather a _small_ manor,' Draco said, defensively. ‘Nothing like my own family seat.’

Potter's green eyes sparkled behind his glasses. His tie was loose around his neck, the top three buttons of his shirt opened. Draco wondered what the hollow of Potter's tawny throat might taste like, if he licked it.

Draco might actually Obliviate _himself_.

'Well, as you're here, perhaps you'd like to join me for that drink? I was going to have a whisky, before turning in?'

'That sounds acceptable, Potter,' Draco said, airily. Best not to sound too keen, in case Potter really did just want to have a drink with him.

'Brilliant. I'll grab us some seats by the fire, shall I? You look like you could do with warming up.’

The door beside the reception desk-cum-bar opened again as Draco waited for their drinks and a man Draco vaguely recognised staggered through, his Paisley waistcoat loose over the belly straining against his shirt.

_Macmillan_ , Draco's foggy brain supplied as he heard a strange shuffling noise behind him.

'Malfoy?' Macmillan said in surprise. 'What the devil are you doing here, old boy? Were you at the wedding too? Lovely day, what?'

The witch handed Draco two tumblers of Firewhisky, the liquid warm through the glass.

'Er- yes. Sorry, Macmillan, I was just about to -' Draco turned. Potter was nowhere to be seen. Draco sighed and offered Macmillan a glass. 'I was just about to have a drink.'

Macmillan was on the Wizengamot now, it wouldn't do to offend him too much, drunk as he was.

'Thanks, Malfoy, I will join you,' Macmillan said, failing to conceal a belch. He dropped into Potter's empty chair, lounging back drunkenly as Draco perched on the sofa opposite him, taking a small sip of his whisky.

'So, no action for you tonight, either?' Macmillan said, peering into his own glass, mournfully. 'I really thought I was in there, but I lost him somewhere.'

'Er -'

'Always was a flirt, even at school,' Macmillan continued. 'He's been coming onto me all night, you know.' He sighed. 'You haven't seen him around, have you, Malfoy?'

'Er, who?'

'Potter, the little tart. He was definitely up for a tumble with me.'

Potter's disembodied head appeared beside Macmillan's chair.

Draco blinked.

‘Absolutely fucking _not_ ,' Potter mouthed, gesturing at Macmillan, before disappearing again.

'Looks like it's just you and I then, old chap,' Macmillan said, making himself comfortable in his armchair and glancing blearily at the carriage clock on the mantel. 'Think we can see the dawn in? What have you been up to, lately? Still at -'

'Excuse me, sir?' The witch from the reception desk tapped Draco's shoulder. 'It's your husband, sir. He’s looking for you. Said to remind you it's room _fourteen_.'

What the bloody hell was she - Draco frowned and opened his mouth just as the witch glanced meaningfully at the space where Potter had been a few minutes ago and then again up at the ceiling.

Oh - Surely she didn't - Surely Potter hadn't -

'I didn't know you were _married_ , Malfoy?' Macmillan slurred. ’Kept that one quiet, eh?’

'I, er, I _forgot_ ,' Draco said lamely, rising to his feet hurriedly, glancing at the tumbler in his hand before draining it to steady his nerves. 'I forgot about my - er - my husband. Well, best be off -'

'Bloody hell,' Macmillan snorted. 'How drunk are you, man? Imagine forgetting you had a husband!'

Draco smiled weakly. 'Quite. Well, goodnight Macmillan, I better get upstairs, you know how it - is.'

'Righto,' Macmillan mumbled. 'At least one of us is getting some. Good luck, Malfoy.'

~*~*~

Draco hovered uncertainly in the narrow corridor. Surely he was mistaken. Surely Potter hadn't meant - he hadn't intended to _imply_ -

The door to number fourteen opened with a creak and Potter's green eyes peered out. He grinned, when he saw Draco was alone, opening the door a little wider.

'Well,' he said. 'Are you coming in?'

Draco swallowed and nodded.

Potter remained standing in the narrow doorway, so that Draco had to brush up against him as he squeezed past. He was satisfied to note they were still of a height, Draco perhaps even an inch or two taller, but Potter's figure was broader and more solid and Draco could feel the heat of his body through his shirt.

Draco's mouth was dry.

Potter tilted his head, ever so slightly, until Draco could feel his breath, hot and damp, against the shell of his ear. He insinuated his thigh between Draco's legs.

'I like you in trousers, _Draco_ ,' he murmured.

Feeling a sudden burst of Gryffindorish recklessness - or of temporary insanity - Draco pressed back up against him and muttered:

'I'd rather see you out of yours, _Harry,'_

~*~*~

Draco woke, mouth dry and head thumping. The light streaming into his room was far too bright, so he pushed his head under the pillows and curled up closer to the unusual warmth at the other side of the bed, groaning pitifully.

His head shot up at the sound of laughter, head clearing and rather vivid memories returning as Potter, shirtless, sheets pooled around his waist, low enough to leave no doubt that he was also naked, leant over and plucked a purple vial from the bedside table, handing it to Draco, followed by a glass of water.

Draco downed the potion thankfully, shifting a little in the bed as rarely-used muscles twinged. He risked a glance up at the other man, expecting plenty of early-morning awkwardness after what they'd done together the previous night. Him and Harry. _Potter_. 

Merlin, fuck.

_This_ was why Draco didn't do one-night stands. How did one manage to extricate themselves from -

Harr - _Potter_ \- was eyeing him thoughtfully, the pink tip of his tongue caught between his white teeth. Their fingers brushed as he took the glass carefully from Draco, green eyes glowing determinedly as he leant forwards.

Draco felt his lips pout, ready to accept Potter's kiss, despite himself, but the man huffed out a laugh, lips landing on the soft skin beneath his ear instead, skating along his jawline as he shifted his weight to push Draco back, firmly, against the pillows.

Draco squirmed, hips beginning to shift needily as Harry's lips trailed slowly down his chest, pausing to let his tongue flicker around his nipple, licking and sucking lower and lower as he moved between Draco's legs, humming appreciatively against the muscles of his stomach as they twitched.

Draco's breath hitched.

'Potter, you fucking _tease_ ,' Draco panted, as the tip of a tongue circled wetly around his hipbone.

'Say, 'please', _Draco_ ,' Potter murmured, breath hot and damp against Draco's skin. ‘I like it when you beg, like you did last night -'

Oh, _Circe_ -

'Fuck off,' Draco wheezed. 'Malfoys don't beg.'

He lifted his head off the pillows to glare down at Harry, dropping his head back down with a groan at the sight of vivid green eyes and Harry's reddening mouth hovering so close to his prick he could feel the puffs of his breath against the straining skin and if he just shifted a tiny bit -

Potter, the utter _bastard_ , smirked and shifted down further in the bed, sheets rustling, beginning to press a slow, lingering trail of wet, sucking kisses from the of Draco's left knee up to the very top of his inner thigh before starting again on the right.

'Potter, you sadistic _shit_ ,' Draco muttered through clenched teeth. 'Fine, pl- _please_.'

Potter rewarded him by licking a long, wet stripe up the underside of Draco's cock, pausing just before he reached the sensitive tip, tongue pressing in just under the head.

'Please, _Harry_ ,' he whispered, before giving Draco a smirk so full of filthy promise that Draco couldn't stop himself babbling anything Harry wanted him to.

'Pl - please, Harry, _fuck_ , anything, just please - oh, f-fuck! Oh, _bloody fucking hell_ , Harry -'

Harry's strong fingers curled around Draco's aching cock as his slick mouth pressed against his still-sensitive hole, his tongue flickering and teasing and licking his way inside as Draco writhed against the sheets unable to moan anything other than, 'Oh, _please!_ ' and ' _Harry!'_ until the other man curled two and then three fingers inside him and then it was Harry's turn to beg, hot face resting against Draco's sweat-damp thigh as he ran an oil-slick hand up and down himself and groaned,

'Please, Draco, I need - can I - _Merlin_ \- please let me fuck you again,' and Draco was still nodding frantically as Harry's swollen lips landed against his, groaning happily into Harry’s open mouth as his cock pushed slowly inside him.

~*~*~


	2. Cut Scenes

**Chapter Two**

~*~*~

The next time Draco woke, the light had taken on the warm tinge of early afternoon and the kiss Pott - _Harry_ \- pressed against his mouth was warm but chaste, his thumb brushing gently under Draco's lower lip.

Draco peered blearily up at him from his messy nest of pillows and rumpled sheets and yawned, stretching until his spine popped. 

'Time 'sit?'

'Gone two,' Potter said, the side of his lip twitching up in a smile. 'And I'm meant to be in a meeting back in London at four, my International Portkey's arranged for tomorrow, so I can't reschedule it. Sorry, you were sleeping so soundly I wasn't sure if it was fair to wake you, but I didn't want to just sneak out and leave you.'

Draco yawned again, rubbing his face. His hands smelt faintly of come and lime and Harry's cologne and he was warm and sleepy and sated, his voice roughened. 'S'okay, Potter, isn't that what you're supposed to do after a drunken one-night stand?'

A tiny flicker of - _something_ \- rippled across Potter's face before his brow smoothed out again and he smiled, wryly.

He had a dimple in his left cheek.

Draco wanted to put the tip of his finger in it.

Draco needed to get away from Harry Bloody Potter and his lovely brown skin while he still had an ounce of sanity left in him. Had the man bathed in _Amortentia_ , or something?

'Is it?' Potter said carefully, 'The done thing? I wasn't sure of the etiquette.'

Draco waved a hand airily. 'Well, it's no surprise you're in need of educating when it comes to _etiquette_ , Harry. Luckily for you, it's something I have vast amounts of experience in.'

Harry bit his lip, a tiny frownline between his dark brows. He had a red patch of roughened skin at the corner of his mouth and another stripe along his jaw and down his neck. Draco frowned and rubbed his own chin, feeling the rasp of stubble there. Potter ran a hand along his cheek and sniggered.

'Don't look at me like that, yours looks even worse and - well,'

He pressed two fingers against a hot, tender patch of skin on Draco's neck, eyes heating a little with lust. 'Erm, sorry about _this_ , too.'

He didn't look very sorry.

Draco leant out of bed, stretching his neck so he could see it in the mirror. 'Good _Lord_ ,' he gasped in horror. 'Everyone's going to know what we've been up to, you bloody vampire.'

'Just tell them it was your husband,' Harry said smugly.

Draco frowned in bewilderment. 'My - _what?'_

Harry's green eyes went impossibly wide and round.

'After-' his voice faltered. 'I thought - after what happened - I just presumed - didn't we just consummate our Bonding?'

Draco's mouth fell open. Harry's mouth twitched until he gave up, snorting with laughter just as Draco remembered the scene in the lounge the evening before. 'Oh, you fucking _prick_ , you really had me going for a moment,' he grunted, throwing a pillow at Harry's smug face to conceal the tiny little spark deep in his belly at the thought of consummating _anything_ with Harry. _Potter_. With Potter.

The bastard was still chuckling as he handed Draco the room service menu in lieu of apology. 'I think that means your breakfast is on me,' he said, 'even if that's not the done thing according to ' _Draco Malfoy's Wizarding Guide To One Night Stand Etiquette_ ,' although, it might be more like afternoon tea, instead of -' he said, glancing at the battered silver watch he wore, a little at odds with his rather stylish set of robes. ' _Fuck!_ I really have to go, I can't - I'm not able to say anything yet, but this meeting is really, really important. Sorry, Draco.'

Potter stood, swirled his cloak on around himself and ran his thumb lightly over the mark on Draco's neck with a lopsided, smug little smirk. 'I had fun, Malfoy,' he said, pressing a kiss to the corner of his mouth. 

Draco fixed an easy, arrogant smirk on his own face. 'I know, Potter.'

~*~*~

_'Draco - did you get your invitation? Three months \- you don't think she's up the spout, do you? P x'_

_-_

_'Pansy - I read in a Muggle magazine one of their celebrities named their firstborn after the location where it was conceived. Will commence sweepstake ASAP - what was the name of that Italian restaurant where you caught them going at it in the loo? D.M. x'_

_-_

_'As if I needed a reminder of that traumatic event. Have never been able to eat Tiramisu since. Did you hear Mills invited Granger and her Weasel King? Do you think Potter might come? Love, P x'_

_P.S. Where on earth were you reading a Muggle gossip rag?_

_p.p.s. Do you think Potter might come. Ha. X_

-

_'Parkinson,_

_Kindly F.O._

_D.M.'_

_-_

_-_

_'Dearest Pansy, Mother has a new hairdresser, and it was_ Tatler _, not a gossip rag. Did you know charcoal tweed is the thing this year, for suiting? Fancy an adventure out to Harvey Nichols on Friday? I think I might get one, for Greg and Millie's Bonding. Been helping with the seating plan now all RSVP's have arrived. Nightmare. Draco xx'_

_-_

_'No robes?_

_I'll only come Muggle shopping if you buy me_ _lunch.'_

-

_'Lunch on me. I'm thinking trousers, for a change. More comfortable & show off results of recent torture sessions at gym better than dress robes. Thoughts on waistcoats? Too much? Have you ever read the publication GQ? What does one do with a pocket square? DM'_

_-_

_'I can read you like a first year Hufflepuff. See you in Knightsbridge at 10. P x_

_-_

  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Not for profit, just for fun in hopes that somebody wishes to read and enjoys it :)

**Author's Note:**

> Just for fun, not for profit of any kind. I’ll just be delighted if anyone takes the time to read my lockdown rambles.


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